The Future is Now: Breathe
by ark the wanderer
Summary: A Post-Final Battle series. Harry and his loved ones come to terms with their loss, rebuild their world, and look to the future. This first part, "Breathe", is about Harry and Ginny getting back together.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry and his world belong to JK Rowling.

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**The Future is Now, Part 1: Breathe**

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**Chapter 1**

The echoes his steps made throughout the deserted hallway were dull, like everything else had been since he woke up that morning. The sun was already up, but the surroundings remained dim. The sounds were muffled, the colors muted, just like his half-feelings and his half-thoughts. Even his injuries did not feel as painful as they were supposed to.

He thought he had taken a bath and dressed in a clean set of clothes. He wasn't too sure. He knew he was clean though—well, at least he thought he was. He had eaten the warm sandwiches left by his bedside. He wasn't sure if he was still hungry or not. He didn't know if it mattered. He had forgotten whether being clean or being full mattered. All that mattered was that he did something—anything.

His brain and his heart had been at a standstill. He did not know how—he had no energy—to keep them from being such. But at least he could make his body do something, mechanical though it may be. So he walked.

Harry found himself at the entrance to the Great Hall. The first thing he noticed was the atmosphere. It seemed like Hogwarts was as confused as he was—torn between grief and celebration and settling on the numbness in between. He paused, hesitating. A moment later, he stepped inside and he knew, from the way the conversations died down and then broke out again a second later with renewed vigor, that people had seen him. He knew they were staring at him, talking about him, even pointing and waving at him. He wasn't too sure, really. He wasn't looking at them. He was just grateful that they didn't come running towards him. He paid them no heed.

His eyes immediately strayed towards her, Ginny, half of his own accord, half of that powerful pull she'd always had on him. She was sitting with her family at the Gryffindor table. They all looked the kind of subdued like the Weasleys never had been. She was talking quietly to her mother, a soothing hand placed on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. Neither of them seemed to have realized that he was there. Hermione, sitting on her other side, placed a hand on her arm.

Ginny turned away from her mother, and then her eyes fell on Harry. She stared at him. She looked tired. The sadness in her eyes broke his heart. And he remembered. Not that he had ever forgotten, but the thought now took first priority in his own tired mind.

_Fred_.

Harry stopped walking. Was he welcome? Did he have a right to share their grief? Did they blame him?

Ron, sitting next to Hermione, looked at him with a familiar, welcoming expression on his face. A small wave of gratitude swept through Harry. He knew the emotion that was behind that expression. It was something he always felt for Ron—friendship, camaraderie, brotherhood.

Hermione looked like she was about to cry. She seemed to be struggling to keep herself from running towards Harry and wrapping him in a bone-breaking hug. The look on her face was one of compassion and understanding.

Sitting across from his best friends, Bill, Fleur, and Charlie had twisted around to look at Harry. Fleur wore an expression partly of awe, but mostly, of gratitude. Bill and Charlie, on the other hand, were looking at him with the same kind of respect he had always reserved for the two oldest Weasley boys.

Mrs. Weasley's expression was just like that of Hermione's. She was clearly struggling to hold back tears and it seemed that she too wanted to give him one of her trademark hugs but was too weak to get up from her seat. There was also something else in her expression. It had always been there, but Harry had not noticed it until now, when he feared he might lose it. She was looking at him like a mother would her son.

George sat next to Mrs. Weasley. He looked at Harry with no other expression on his face except for that of recognition. It was much better than the lost look he wore on _that_ day. Next to him, Percy was looking at Harry the way Bill and Charlie did. There was also a willful determination to the way he set his jaw. It took a moment for Harry to realize that Percy looked just like Ron on the many times his best friend swore he would stand by his side.

Mr. Weasley sat on Percy's other side. The expression on his face was that of all his sons combined—respect, camaraderie, gratitude, and loyalty. There was also the warmth. He had always looked at Harry with that warmth in his eyes. It never left. And then he gave a nod, barely perceptible, but still a nod. It seemed like a go signal for Harry to start walking again.

Harry stayed where he stood. His eyes strayed back to Ginny. She gazed back at him with the same hard, blazing look she wore when they first kissed and when he broke up with her to keep her safe. Her flaming red hair and her brown eyes, both burning hot and tenderly warm, reminded him of sunrise. The way she sat and stared at him gave him the quiet reassurance that she would walk through fire and drag him back if he ever shied away. Her expression finally pushed—_compelled_—him to move forward.

Harry walked towards Gryffindor table so that he was on the side where Ginny was sitting. Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Weasley immediately stood up as he approached. Hermione hugged him tightly as Ron clapped his back. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley pulled his best friends away and engulfed him in her own bone-breaking hug. Fleur tried to hug him over the Gryffindor table then settled for a kiss on both cheeks. Bill and Charlie shook his hand solemnly, as did Percy. George had remained seated, but he nodded at Harry like his father did a while ago. Mr. Weasley stepped past his wife and sons and did something he had never done before: he pulled Harry into a warm hug. It surprised Harry, but he welcomed it all the same. It reminded him of Remus, Sirius, and his own father. And then Ginny stood up, her eyes on Harry. He stepped towards her and looked into her blazing eyes.

He took her in and stared intently at her face, wanting to memorize everything from the exact brown of her eyes to the way her hair strayed over them; from the shape of her cute nose to the exact number of freckles on it. It had been months since he had properly looked at her and now—now he did not ever want to take his eyes off her. He let his eyes travel all over her, not wanting to miss a single feature.

She had a scar on her neck, just above the collarbone, another one below her ear, and still another one along the inner side of her right forearm. He suspected that she'd had the smaller scars and bruises healed yesterday. Just like everyone else, she looked pale and tired. There were dark circles under her eyes and she looked thinner than she did at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Even in her current state, Harry thought that he had never seen anyone else quite as beautiful as Ginny.

Harry did not know how it happened. One moment, he and Ginny were standing face to face, the next, they had embraced each other so tightly even Hagrid would not have been able to pull them apart. Harry buried his head in Ginny's shoulders. The sweet, flowery scent of her hair invaded his senses, and suddenly, all the emotions he had been afraid to feel came rushing back to him. He struggled to keep his composure. It would not do to break down in the middle of the Great Hall. He pulled her closer and took a deep breath of her sweet smelling hair. The flowery fragrance, which moments ago had broken down the walls he did not know he had built, now kept him calm. He felt her hold on him loosen, causing him to hug her even tighter.

"Harry," she said breathlessly after what seemed like seconds or years. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He tightened his hold on her. "Harry, I can't breathe." She choked more than said it.

Harry reluctantly loosened his embrace. He let go a moment later. He tried to step back, but Ginny's tight grip on his arms prevented him from completely pulling away. He rested his forehead on hers and looked into her eyes. How he missed that particular shade of brown. How he missed the way she looked at him. He never wanted to look away again.

_I love you_, he thought. And he almost said it too.

He fought for control over the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. He felt joy and grief warring within him. He felt the pain of separation, the incredible relief that she was alive, the hope of getting back together, the comfort of simply holding her, the resolve to never ever let go again, and underneath it all, the faint stirring of desire.

Ginny's eyes reflected the turbulence of his feelings. She closed them, as though it was the only way she could control her own emotions. Her forehead creased, and a single tear trickled down her flushed cheek.

Harry's heart twisted at the sight of the lone droplet. He brought a hand up to the back of her head and pulled her to him. He kissed the teardrop away. She made a small noise, half-moan and half-whimper, and rested her hands on his shoulders. She kissed his cheek. He wrapped his free hand around her waist and kissed the eye that shed the single tear. She kissed his other cheek. He kissed her nose. She kissed the corner of his mouth, sending shivers down his spine. He kissed her forehead and let his lips linger there.

They stood that way for a long while, breathing heavily, their eyes closed, his hands on her back, her hands on his waist, his lips on her forehead. After several minutes, or it might have been days, they finally pulled away. Harry's eyes strayed to Ginny's lips—chapped, rosy, inviting. He swallowed hard and met her eyes, and he saw in them the very same decision he had made at that moment.

Not yet. Not here. Not now.

But soon.

Harry pulled her close. Ginny laid her head on his chest. He rested his chin on her head and breathed deeply, taking in her flowery scent like it was an addiction he couldn't break out of. Truly, she was like the breath of fresh air that prevented his oxygen-deprived lungs from collapsing.

After a while, Ginny pulled away slightly. She stared at his chest, her expression impassive. And then, she broke out into a smile, a small one that didn't quite reach her eyes, but still a smile.

"It still looks good on you," she said softly.

Harry followed her eyes to his chest and noticed, for the first time, that he was wearing a dark green shirt with a golden talon design on the front. It was the Holyhead Harpies shirt she'd gotten him for Christmas on his sixth year to try and convert him to her team. She had kept saying that the shirt looked good on him whenever he wore it, and Harry, being totally smitten, wore it as often as the house-elves' washing schedule allowed. She had teased him mercilessly about it when they'd finally gotten together. It was an inside joke between them.

_Something just between him and Ginny_. Harry felt warmth spread throughout his whole body and slightly loosen the tightening in his heart that had been there since the death of his old headmaster. His voice cracked as he spoke.

"Did you—you were—were you the one who put these by my bed?" he asked, indicating his clothes.

Ginny nodded slowly. A lump started to form in his throat. She had made sure that he got clean clothes. She had cared for him. It felt so good, to know that she had cared enough to prepare clothes for him. And she had picked a shirt that meant something, however small, to the two of them. Harry blinked back the tears that were threatening to escape him.

"And the sandwiches?" he asked hopefully. He wondered if she had sat by his bed and stared at his sleeping form. He felt another surge of warmth at the thought.

"Kreacher made them," she said. Harry tried not to deflate. "He's changed," she added quietly, more to herself than to him, and then, "I placed the warming charm on them."

Harry felt the frail control he had over his emotions break. Ginny had taken care of him. She had placed clothes by his bed, _and_ she had helped prepare his food. _She_, Ginny, cared about him. Tears started flowing from his eyes. He quickly brushed them away, thinking of how stupid it was to cry just because she placed a warming charm on his sandwiches.

"This is embarrassing," he told her honestly when he finally regained his voice.

"Everyone's staring at us," she replied in a whisper as she too wiped away the tears that had formed in her eyes.

Harry tore his gaze away from her and looked around. He suddenly realized that they were in the Great Hall and that, yes, everyone was staring at them. Even the Grey Lady, who was floating over one end of the Ravenclaw table, the features of her face arranged into a rare smile. Harry felt his face redden. He looked back at Ginny, her eyes shining, and he decided that everyone could stare all they wanted, he didn't care.

She gave him a small smile and he smiled back, meaning it for the first time in months. She took his hand in hers and led him to the Gryffindor table. Harry looked around at her family, particularly her brothers. If any of them had been surprised by the way he had just clung to Ginny, they didn't show it. Except for Percy—his jaw had dropped to the floor.

Mrs. Weasley let out a soft cry and suddenly jumped up from her seat. She pushed Harry and Ginny to their seats so that Harry was sitting between Ginny and Hermione. After that, Mrs. Weasley began piling toast, eggs, and sausages on Harry's plate, nearly knocking Ginny off her seat.

"Mum, Harry can get his own food," Ginny protested for him as she dodged her mother's elbow.

"Hush, dear," Mrs. Weasley said affectionately as she moved on to the bacon.

"I, er, I'm alright, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said lamely.

Mrs. Weasley ignored him too and continued to pile food on his plate, stopping only when he had a full English breakfast in front of him. Harry looked at Ginny, then at Hermione at his other side, and finally at Bill and Charlie from across the table. He realized, by the slightly amused expressions on their faces, that he had no choice but to eat everything Mrs. Weasley had put on his plate. He looked back at his food and realized that he _was_ hungry. He hadn't eaten properly in days. He picked up his fork and immediately came to a dilemma. His right hand was still intertwined with Ginny's. He needed both hands to eat but heaven be damned if he was going to let go.

Ginny seemed to have understood his need for closeness. She pulled her hand away from his and, before he could get disappointed, slid closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Harry smiled gratefully at her. She smiled back and kissed his shoulder. He responded with a kiss to her temple. Then he turned back to his food and started filling his stomach, all the while enjoying the warm feeling of her body against his.

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**AN:** Many thanks to Felineyx (from Perfect Imagination) for beta-reading this story, and to midnightzrain for some beta-reading on the first chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

As Harry ate his breakfast, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, with the help of Bill and Charlie, filled him in about everything that had taken place and the decisions that had been made while he was asleep. Harry learned that he had been sleeping for nearly twenty-four hours. Before Ron and Hermione had gone to sleep themselves, they had told Kingsley Shacklebolt about Malfoy Manor, which was most probably Voldemort's headquarters, and the Shrieking Shack, where Voldemort had stayed for the most part of his attack on Hogwarts. Kingsley had immediately dispatched a team of volunteers, Aurors, and Order members (Bill and Charlie among them) to the two locations. The teams recovered many dark items from Malfoy Manor and Snape's body from the Shrieking Shack, but no Death Eaters had been hiding in either location. Most of the Death Eaters that were involved in the final battle had been captured, but a few had escaped during the confusion immediately following Riddle's fall.

The captured Death Eaters were temporarily detained in the many dungeons of Hogwarts and were guarded by members of the Order of the Phoenix and a select group of Aurors. Several people, afraid of a breakout, had expressed their concerns about this arrangement. Kingsley had reassured them of the competency and trustworthiness of the guards and with the fact that there would only be at most five Death Eaters in each dungeon, lessening the negative impact if a break-out ever did occur ("The Death Eaters had their wands confiscated, so a break-out would be next to impossible," said Charlie). Kingsley had also reasoned that apart from Azkaban, which was still being prepared ("They're making sure that it's secure enough and that none of the guards is a Voldemort supporter," clarified Bill), Hogwarts was the most secure location in all of Britain ("No one can Apparate in and out of Hogwarts, after all," said Ron, earning a small smile and a look of pride from Hermione).

The Death Eaters would be transferred to Azkaban that afternoon and trials would begin the following week ("Unfortunately," commented Ron, to which Ginny nodded fervently and Hermione looked disapproving but didn't say anything). Knowing that the Malfoys were among those that had been captured, Harry made a decision to testify for Narcissa Malfoy in her trial. She had saved his life after all, and in turn, helped Tom Riddle's downfall.

While the Aurors and Order members took care of the Death Eaters, the teachers and students, along with volunteers from Hogsmeade and other parts of Britain, had begun cleaning up and restoring the parts of the castle that had been destroyed during the battle ("People are starting to call it the Battle of Hogwarts," said Hermione). Several students, Ginny among them, had also helped in the infirmary. Ginny told Harry that those who were severely injured had been sent to St. Mungo's while the rest remained in the hospital wing, which had been expanded to accommodate all the patients. A team of Healers had also been dispatched from St. Mungo's to help Madam Pomfrey in tending to those who were still staying in the hospital wing.

The Weasleys had planned to stay at the school for one more day. Apparently, the Burrow was still in a bad state and they had decided to have Mr. Weasley and Bill do some minor repairs to the house and prepare it for the whole family. The rest of the Weasleys had decided to help with what needed to done at Hogwarts before they all went home the following day ("You would of course be coming with us, dears," Mrs. Weasley said to Harry and Hermione, making Harry feel a little choked up).

Presently, as the empty plates began to disappear, Mr. Weasley, Charlie, and Bill (with a kiss from Fleur) excused themselves from the table. Mr. Weasley and Bill were going to the Burrow while Charlie was going to help with the guard duty on the Death Eaters that were temporarily detained in Hogwarts' dungeons.

"So, what are we going to do?" Harry asked as he downed the last of his pumpkin juice, thinking of something along the lines of helping with the repairs.

"You," Ginny poked him on the shoulder, "are going to the hospital wing," she said firmly. "We need to get you checked with Madam Pomfrey."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Ginny already raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. He clamped his mouth shut, knowing that there would be no way out. He had to admit, he was beginning to feel the soreness in several parts of his body and her soft poke actually caused more pain than it was supposed to. Besides, he thought as he smiled at Ginny, he kind of liked having her fuss over him.

After excusing themselves from the rest of the Weasleys, Harry and Ginny walked hand in hand towards the Great Hall's double doors, Ron and Hermione right behind them. Harry felt the eyes of many people on him, but the comfort provided by Ginny's hand in his prevented him from giving in to the overwhelming urge to run and hide somewhere. He was still relieved, however, when they finally got out into the entrance hall, where the only people he could see were the Patil twins.

"Parvati, Padma," Hermione called to the two girls, who were climbing up the marble staircase. She quickened her pace, dragging Ron with her. Harry and Ginny hurried up after them.

The Patil twins turned around to see who had called them. Harry noticed that Parvati was holding a small paper bag. She and Padma smiled at the four Gryffindors, their gazes lingering on Harry longer than necessary. The expressions of awe on their faces as they looked at him made Harry feel extremely uncomfortable. He felt an overwhelming urge to hide behind Ginny.

"Are you going to visit Lavender?" Hermione asked as they leveled with the two girls.

Parvati and Padma finally tore their eyes away from Harry. "Yeah," replied Parvati. "We're taking this to her," she added, holding up the paper bag she was carrying. "She was complaining that the food they brought for her was overcooked."

Harry's brow furrowed as he remembered the image of Fenrir Greyback attacking the prone body of Lavender Brown. He wondered if she was in as bad a shape as Bill had been.

"How is she?" asked Harry. He winced inwardly at the thought of Lavender, who had always put much value on outward beauty, being disfigured by Greyback's assault.

"She's coping," replied Parvati, her pride and admiration for her friend evident in her voice. "The werewolf—Greyback—only got her on the shoulder," she said, answering the question people must have been thinking whenever they asked about Lavender. "It's all thanks to you, Hermione," she added gratefully. Hermione responded with a small smile. "And Ron and Ginny's brother talked to her yesterday."

Harry turned to Ginny. "Bill," she confirmed before he could ask. "Madam Pomfrey wanted to transfer Lavender to St. Mungo's," she told everyone. "But she insisted on staying here. She said that she'd 'stuck by'—" Ginny made quoting gestures with her fingers "—this school the whole year, she wasn't about to leave it now. Those were her exact words. I think she also wanted to be able to help with the repairs," she added, a faint note of exasperation in her voice.

Harry had a feeling that Ginny had been trying to convince Lavender to go St. Mungo's, but obviously without any success. He was slightly surprised by his classmate's decision. It seemed like a very hard-headed Gryffindor thing to do. The Lavender he thought he knew would never do anything like that. He realized that he did not truly know Lavender Brown.

Harry turned back to the Patil twins and noticed that they were still staring at him like he had just done something great. He squirmed under their awed stares, awkwardly flattened his hair over his scar (more out of habit than anything else), and gave a small cough.

Parvati seemed to have realized his discomfort. She blinked several times and tore her gaze away from him, looking extremely embarrassed.

"Sorry, Harry," Parvati said sheepishly. At her sister's voice, Padma realized that she too had been staring and she immediately looked away, embarrassed. "I'm still trying to reconcile with the fact that the saviour of the Wizarding World also happens to be my classmate."

_Saviour of the Wizarding World_? Harry thought incredulously.

"Erm…I'd really rather that you see me as your classmate," he replied honestly.

The Patil twins smiled sheepishly at him, and then at Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, all three of whom responded with understanding smiles. Harry had no idea what it was exactly that they understood. He awkwardly flattened his hair again.

"We should go," said Ginny, seemingly hearing his silent plea for someone to break the uncomfortable situation. "Lavender's probably waiting for you," she said to Parvati and Padma.

"Yeah," said Ron with a slight note of amusement in his voice. "She's probably hungry as—"

Ron stopped abruptly, apparently catching himself. Whatever it was that he was going to say, Harry knew that it would not have been very tactful. Ginny, Hermione, Parvati, and Padma looked at him with varying degrees of disapproval, but Harry thought that they should be proud that Ron did not finish his sentence. Ron coughed, his ears turning red with embarrassment.

"Right," he said gruffly. "Let's go."

Ron quickly walked up the marble staircase, pulling Hermione along with him. She gave him a look that was somewhere between questioning and knowing, though he studiously ignored it. Parvati and Padma looked curiously at each other before following the couple up the marble staircase.

"That could have been nasty," Ginny observed casually as she and Harry stared at Ron and Hermione's retreating backs.

"Yeah," agreed Harry.

Ginny frowned thoughtfully. "He's changed," she said in a more serious tone. "You've all changed," she added, looking up at Harry. There was a silent question in her eyes. "You, him, and Hermione."

"Not everything's changed," Harry said steadfastly. "Not for me, at least," he added, his voice thick with emotion.

He looked into Ginny's eyes, hoping that she understood what he meant. Ginny held his gaze for a second or for an hour, and then she blinked and smiled at him. She cocked her head sideways, eyeing him with a tenderness that made warmth spread from his heart to his entire body.

"Oi!" came Ron's loud voice. "Are you two coming or not?"

Harry reluctantly tore his eyes away from Ginny and turned to Ron, who was already at the first floor landing with Hermione and the Patil twins.

"Not for Ron, either," Ginny said in a half-exasperated, half-amused voice. Harry snorted in agreement.

"Come on," said Ginny, taking a step up the marble staircase and pulling Harry along, "Let's get you to the hospital wing."

Apart from the enlarged space, the hospital wing appeared exactly as it had the last time Harry had visited it: stark white and quiet. Most of the beds had white drapes put up around them, hiding their occupants from view. Some had the drapes thrown open, the occupants chatting quietly with their visitors. Several people had looked his way when Harry walked through the double doors, their expressions similar to the ones the Patil twins had worn a while ago. They immediately turned away, however, obviously more concerned about their injured friend or relative than by his presence. He was extremely grateful for that.

Parvati and Padma led the way to Lavender's bed at the far end of the room. Ginny, who had spoken with Lavender the day before, went to get Madam Pomfrey while Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the Patil twins.

Lavender was sitting up on her bed, the drapes thrown open around her. She looked pale and drawn, her normally well-groomed hair hanging limply down her shoulders. Harry could see bandages on the left part of her neck and disappearing into her shoulder, hidden under the hospital robe she was wearing. When she saw Harry and the others, however, she gave a weak smile. She looked up at Hermione, her eyes shining with gratitude.

"Hermione," Lavender began weakly. "Hermione, I—I—thank you," she choked. "I don't know what that—that _monster_ would have done to me if he hadn't—if you hadn't—if you hadn't stopped him. Thank you. _Thank you_," she repeated fervently. "I—"

Lavender broke off, unable to continue any longer. Parvati took the chair by the bed and held her hand.

"I couldn't let that monster attack you, Lavender," Hermione said gently. "And—and Trelawney had helped too—"

"Yeah, first time her crystal balls came of use," Ron said half-jokingly.

Without warning, Lavender began wailing uncontrollably. Hermione shot Ron a stern glare before sitting on Lavender's bed and wrapping the girl in her arms. Lavender buried her head in Hermione's bushy hair and began mumbling something. Harry could only hear the words "kind", "sorry", and "Ron". Hermione responded just as inaudibly so that the only thing Harry heard from her was "prat".

"Hey, I'm right here!" Ron said in a mock-indignant tone. Apparently, he had heard Hermione and Lavender perfectly and from his reaction, Harry assumed that "prat" had been aimed at him.

After several minutes in which Parvati and Padma kept wiping tears from their eyes and Harry and Ron looked awkwardly at the scene unfolding in front of them, Hermione and Lavender finally broke apart, smiling at each other. It was at that moment that Ginny chose to join them.

"Hey," said Ginny, looking around at everybody. She stared curiously at Hermione and Lavender for a second before turning to Harry. "Harry, come on," she said, gesturing for him to come forward. "The Healer's waiting for you over there," she pointed to a small area that was surrounded with drapes at the other side of the room.

Harry walked towards Ginny and took her hand in his.

"We'll be there in a few, mate," said Ron, nodding towards Hermione, who was still talking to Lavender and the Patil twins. Harry nodded in understanding and smiled at his best friends and the three other girls with them.

"Thanks for dropping by, Harry," Lavender called to him. Harry smiled and gave another nod. He thought that it was the least he could do.

"Madam Pomfrey's not around," Ginny began as she and Harry walked away from the others. "She's been up all night tending to everybody and the other Healers have just convinced her to get some rest. I found another Healer to check you up. You don't mind, do you?" she asked with a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "They're all very professional," she assured him.

"No," replied Harry, smiling and shaking his head. He felt very happy that Ginny went through the trouble of finding another Healer for him. "Thanks, Gin."

Ginny returned his smile and led him to the small area in the hospital that they had prepared for him. The Healer, a tall woman who appeared to be in her early twenties, was already waiting for him there. She had long light brown hair tightly pulled back into a ponytail and she smiled at him as he entered through the drapes.

"Mr. Potter," greeted the Healer. "It's a great honor to meet you. I'm Healer Radford," she added. Harry returned her smile and shook the hand she held out to him.

"I need you to sit over there," she said in a brisk, no-nonsense voice, pointing to the bed. Harry did as he was told. "Now, take off your shirt."

Harry glanced at Ginny, who was standing to his right, and suddenly blushed at the thought of her seeing him without his shirt on. She had actually seen him without his shirt on. He had even snogged her without his shirt on. But that was months and months ago. They had planned to go flying and Harry had been changing into proper gear. He had dressed slowly, still lightheaded because of the dizzying snog she'd just given him. She had gotten impatient and burst into the Gryffindor boys' changing room, and he'd only had his shoes and trousers on. She had stared at his chest for several heart-stopping minutes, walked towards him with a look on her eyes that made all his blood rush to one part of his body, and proceeded to snog him so thoroughly that he'd quite literally forgotten his name. Looking into Ginny's eyes now, Harry realized that she was remembering the same thing. He found himself unable to look away as he stared into her brown eyes, full of fire and passion.

A loud cough reminded them of the presence of another person. Harry and Ginny reluctantly looked away from each other, their faces burning. Harry turned his attention to Healer Radford, who was looking between him and Ginny, her lips twitching. The young Healer turned to Harry and gave him a pointed look. It took him a moment to remember that he was supposed to take his shirt off.

Gingerly, because his ribs and left shoulder blade hurt, Harry took off his shirt and draped them over the small chair nearby. He looked at Ginny, a small part of him hoping that she would look at him the way she did back in the Gryffindor locker room. However, Ginny's face had crumpled as she stared at his bare chest. She sat weakly on the chair by his bed and took his hand, gripping it tightly. She looked like she was biting back tears.

"What—what's wrong?" Harry asked concernedly.

"Nothing," she said, her voice cracking. Harry didn't believe her.

Ginny looked up at Healer Radford, who gave a nod and started waving her wand around Harry's whole body, murmuring spells under her breath. About twenty minutes later, Harry got the results of what he supposed was the checkup. He had cracked two ribs (albeit slightly), strained the muscle near his shoulders, sprained a knee (though he honestly didn't feel it), and broke a finger (it _was_ painful, he just hadn't realized it had broken)—among other things.

Healer Radford made Harry sit all the way on the bed so that his back was against the wall and his legs were stretched out in front of him. She handed Ginny a small tub containing a thick yellow paste and told her to apply the paste on Harry's bruises. She left after a moment, saying that she'd come back with potions for him. Harry resigned himself to the fate of having to drink whatever nasty stuff the Healer would give him. When he joked about this to Ginny, she only gave a strained smile and continued to stare at the large bruise on the right part of his torso.

"It doesn't really hurt that much," lied Harry.

Ginny smiled at him in such a way that told him she didn't believe a word of what he just said. Slowly, she lifted her free hand from her lap and gently placed it on the bruised area of his torso. The part where her fingers touched his skin tingled pleasantly. At Harry's sharp intake of breath, Ginny immediately lightened the pressure of her touch.

"Sorry," she said quietly, obviously thinking that she'd hurt him.

Harry let out a small noise, unable to form a single word as all his attention was drawn to the small points where skin met skin. And then, Ginny began tracing circles around his bruise. He found himself unable to breathe, and his mouth fell open slightly at the sensation caused by her soft touch. He felt his insides begin to boil in a warm and pleasant way, and blood started to rush to one part of his body. He quickly grabbed her hand and pulled it away before he could have _that_ particular reaction right there in the hospital wing. He felt his face heat up in embarrassment.

Ginny looked at him in confusion for a moment, and then suddenly turned as red as her hair, obviously understanding how much her touch had affected him. She gently pulled her hand away from his and rested it back on her lap. Harry tore his eyes away from hers and looked down at the sheets. He was starting to find them extremely interesting.

"Sorry," Ginny said again.

"Erm…" murmured Harry, not really knowing what to say. It was nothing new between them. She'd caused him to react like _that_ many times before. He did not know why it was suddenly so awkward.

Harry felt Ginny's eyes on him. He turned back to her and smiled sheepishly. She returned his smile and then, moments later, the two of them were chuckling softly, all awkwardness forgotten. Ginny dipped her hand into the thick paste the Healer had given her and promptly dabbed it on Harry's bruise, seemingly forgetting about what her touch could cause him.

"Ginny," groaned Harry.

She gave him a stern look. "Harry, you heard what the Healer said," she told him. "We've got to apply this on your bruises," she held out the paste to him before once again applying it on his torso, sending jolts of electricity all over his body.

"I'll, er…" Harry began, and then trailed off as he dipped his hand into the paste. "I think I'll do that," he said, dabbing the paste onto the bruise on his torso himself.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him in a show of annoyance, though he noticed that her lips were twitching upwards. She applied the paste on the bruise near his right shoulder instead, though she continued to stare at the bruise on his torso. She frowned at the bruise again.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Harry asked softly. She looked up at him with such sorrow and distress in her eyes that he couldn't help but reach out and cup her face in his hand.

"I just—I hate seeing you like this!" she said with a loud sigh. She took his hand in hers and kissed his palm, sending shivers up his arm.

Ginny brought his hand down, her perfect red brows furrowing deeper as she looked him in the eye. "You've got to take care of yourself from now on, alright?" she implored. "And you've—you've—" she paused, taking a huge breath and letting her eyes travel all over his body before looking back at him. "I'm going to make sure you eat a feast—every single meal," she added firmly.

Harry couldn't help but feel extremely happy at her declarations. _I love her_, he thought to himself. He stared at her, taking in everything about her, and it was then that it hit him—_really_ hit him.

He was in love with her.

Oh, he had known since the split second before Riddle's Killing Curse hit him that he did. But right at that moment, as he gazed back into her blazing eyes, it seemed more real, more solid. He loved everything about her. He loved her inside out. He'd never been more certain of anything else in his life, and instead of suffocating him, the revelation seemed to have unclogged his lungs. It was like taking a breath of her sweet smelling hair. He couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips.

Ginny's expression softened, and she returned his smile with her own. She sighed and grabbed his left arm, applying the yellow paste on the bruise near his wrist.

"I hate your bloody bruises," she muttered darkly.

_I love you_, Harry thought, smiling.

* * *

**AN:** Thanks to HeadGirl07 for pointing out that Ginny doesn't seem to be a knitting type of person, to Emily for pointing out some mistakes in the first chapter, and to everyone else who had reviewed. I have made some changes in the first chapter so you might want to check it out again. Or not, since the changes are pretty minor.

_Edited: 24, November 2009  
-- The part about the memorial service is changed. Originally, there would be a memorial service the next day, but I have decided to take that out. Instead, the Weasleys would be going home to the Burrow the next day._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Harry sat quietly in the Gryffindor common room, staring intently at the crackling fire in front of him so that he could almost make out all its component colors. Beside him, with her body pressed up against his and her head resting on his shoulder, Ginny gazed into the flames with as much intensity. He held her hand possessively in his, resting them on his lap, while his other hand closed around the hand she laid on his upper arm.

The Weasleys had taken up beds in the dormitories of the younger students who had been evacuated from Hogwarts while the students who had stayed to fight slept in their own dormitories. Ron and Hermione had headed up the seventh year boys' dormitory together, and Harry had no doubt that his two best friends were sleeping in the same bed. Harry and Ginny sat in silence in the deserted common room, neither of them feeling the need to break it.

The events of the day seemed to replay in the dancing flames in front of Harry. He had joined Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasleys in the Great Hall that morning. After he'd had his breakfast, Ginny and his two best friends had taken him to the hospital wing, where a Healer from St. Mungo's had tended to him. Madam Pomfrey took over around lunchtime and made him stay until late afternoon. He was released with orders to "Rest, rest, and rest" (Madam Pomfrey practically harassed Ginny, Ron, and Hermione to make sure that Harry did just that).

After getting out of the hospital wing, Harry had found himself being dragged into a discussion about what to do with Riddle's body. It was a pretty simple decision, but the discussion took too long for Harry's liking because of the annoying (in his opinion, at least) arguments of the several self-involved Ministry officials who had participated in it. The Ministry officials, who Harry was pretty sure had gone into hiding during Riddle's reign of terror, wanted to burn Riddle's body and forget that he ever existed. Harry had no problems with burning the bastard's body, but he thought that forgetting Riddle's existence would be very much like forgetting the lives that had been ruined and sacrificed in the war against the dark wizard. Kingsley and McGonagall agreed with Harry and in the end, it was decided to burn Riddle's body (along with those Death Eaters whose bodies weren't claimed), but to erect a tomb so that people would realize that he was just a human being and not the seemingly invincible creature that everyone had feared so much.

Ginny, who had gone with Bill and Dennis Creevey to inform Dennis' parents of Colin's passing while Harry was in the discussion about Riddle's body, had not returned by the time it ended. While Harry understood Ginny's need to help Dennis Creevey, a part of him still felt resentful that she had left his side, even for just a few hours. Seeing the dead bodies in one of the classrooms on the ground floor did not improve his mood, but when Ginny finally returned with Bill well after dinnertime with such a defeated look on her face, Harry immediately forgot all his resentments. He felt stupid for feeling resentful that she had left him for a few hours when _he_ had left her for months without any idea of his whereabouts and what he was up to. He felt stupid for resenting her actions when he would have done the same thing if he was in her place. If something had happened to Hermione, Harry would want to be the one to inform her parents—

Harry felt a pain in his chest at the thought of losing his two best friends—for he knew Ron would be lost without Hermione. Thinking back to all that they had been through, Harry's stomach turned to ice at the realization that he had, several times, almost caused his best friends' deaths. It wasn't just Ron and Hermione either. There was Neville, and Luna, and Ginny—

Ginny. He didn't think he would have been able to handle it.

Harry turned his head slightly to gaze down at her. He noted the way her hand fit perfectly in his, the way her body warmed him more than any fire ever could, the way her soft hair felt against his cheek, and the way the firelight danced in her eyes. She was more beautiful than any angel in heaven. In his mind, no one could ever compare. No, he would _never_ have been able to bear it if he had lost her.

He tried to shake his gloomy thoughts away. There had been enough loss without him dwelling on the what-ifs. He thought of the bodies he had seen that afternoon, all wrapped in white sheets that belied the disaster that had fallen over Hogwarts. Black would have been more appropriate. There had been too much loss. Too many deaths had happened around him.

_Cedric_, who only wanted to bring glory to Hogwarts; who had helped _him_ along during the Triwizard Tournament.

_Colin_, who had fought even when he was not supposed to; who had idolized _him_ even when he shouldn't.

_Dobby_, who had saved his and his best friends' lives; who had been so loyal to _him_.

_Fred_, who had fought, and laughed, to his very last breath; who always managed to bring laughter in every situation.

_Remus and Tonks_, who had fought for their son and yet left him behind. _Tonks_, with her clumsy ways and her eternal optimism. _Remus_, who had been a mentor, a friend, and a father-figure to _him_.

_Sirius_, who was never given a chance at a normal life; who had escaped Azkaban, and later on the safety of the Order headquarters, just for _him_.

_Mum and Dad_, who had fought Riddle till their very last breaths; who had died so that he could live and fulfill his destiny.

And many others who would have lived had Harry surrendered himself much sooner. But it wasn't really his fault, was it? He had not known that he was a Horcrux right away. Riddle was the one to blame… Wasn't he?

But he, Harry, had convinced Cedric to take the cup, he had fallen to Riddle's trap in the Department of Mysteries, he had recruited Colin to the D.A., he had befriended the Weasleys, he had—

_No_.

It was all Riddle's doing…

Wasn't it?

"Do you think everything's my fault?" he asked, finally voicing the question he had been asking himself since…since he wasn't quite sure how long.

Ginny pulled away from him, taking her warmth with her, and met his gaze. The comfortable silence that had enveloped them since everyone else left the common room was gone. His question hung in the air. Her brown eyes bore into him. He could not be sure whether she was angry, concerned, exasperated, incredulous, or anxious—maybe she was all those things at the same time. He waited for her to say something.

"Do you really think that?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I—I don't know," he replied truthfully, staring at their hands on his lap. "I—I just—" he wanted to think that it wasn't, but there was a part of him, a dark voice that wasn't his, that said it was. "I don't know," he said in a defeated voice, not knowing how to articulate what he really thought.

"Well, _I_ know," said Ginny. Her voice was fierce, but her touch was gentle as he lifted his chin up so that he could look into her eyes. "None of this was your fault."

She spoke in barely a whisper, but her eyes showed how much she meant her words. He wanted to believe her. He really did. Hell, he had kept telling himself that it wasn't his fault.

_It wasn't_.

But the dark voice was stubborn.

"Cedric was killed because of me," he said, sounding almost angry.

"You had no idea the cup was a Portkey," she told him calmly.

"My parents gave their lives to protect me."

"Your parents did what any parent would. They would not have stood by while Voldemort tried to kill someone they loved more than life itself. You would have done the same thing."

"Colin wouldn't have fought if he hadn't been in the D.A."

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment, her brows furrowing at the thought of her friend. Harry immediately felt guilty for bringing Colin up. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she spoke up again.

"Colin," she began, taking a deep breath. "Colin was a Muggle-born. He would have died under Voldemort's reign. He preferred to die fighting than to live in hiding. He was a true Gryffindor." She looked Harry in the eye, "He learned that from you."

It was starting to sound like one of the arguments he had with himself. Only this time, this time the voice of reason was Ginny, and her whispers were becoming louder than the dark voice in his head.

"Fred—"

"_Fred_," said Ginny, her breath hitching. "Fred fought for what he thought was right, for what _is_ right, for what our parents had taught us since we were young. Fred fought for a world where everyone could laugh freely without the threat of some dark 'lord' hanging over their heads. Fred never believed in anyone else making his decisions for him. Nobody could have made him fight if he didn't want to."

Ginny fixed him with a stern, almost angry, glare. "Do not insult _my brother_ by thinking you had somehow forced him into fighting a cause he knew was right."

"What about Remus and Dora!" he said loudly, angrily. He realized a moment later that he was not angry at himself but at Ginny for saying that he had insulted Fred.

Ginny was unfazed by his outburst. She stared defiantly at him. He looked sheepishly down at his hands, somehow feeling stupid. She snorted humorlessly, but her voice was gentle as she spoke.

"You already know it, Harry," she said. Harry looked up at her, knowing what she was going to say next.

---

"_I didn't want you to die,__"__ Harry said. These words came without his volition. __"__Any of you. I__'__m sorry__—"_

_He addressed Lupin more than any of them, beseeching him._

"—_right after you__'__d had your son__…__Remus, I__'__m sorry__—"_

"_I am sorry too,__"__ said Lupin. __"__Sorry I will never know him__…__but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life.__"_

_---_

"Remus and Dora," began Ginny, "were fighting for the loved ones they had lost to Voldemort—for her father, for his best friends. But most importantly, they were fighting for their son, for Teddy's future. They had as much reason to fight as you, Harry."

"What about Sirius then?" he challenged Ginny. "I _know_ that his death was my fault. He came to the Ministry because of me."

"Harry, Sirius loved you, of course he would come after you. You would've done the same thing too—hell, you _did_ do the same thing. You came to the Ministry because you wanted to save him."

"Only that turned out to be a trap," Harry spat angrily. "Voldemort was baiting me and I was stupid enough to fall for it. Sirius wouldn't have died if it weren't for my stupidity. You can't deny that, Ginny."

Ginny turned away from him and stared silently at the fire. For one horrible moment, Harry thought that she had agreed with him. It was one thing to think that he was responsible for Sirius' death, but completely another to know that someone else, especially if that someone else was Ginny, thought so too.

"Remember what Dumbledore told me after you rescued me from the Chamber?" she began calmly. Harry felt a cold shiver run down his spine at the mention of her ordeal during her first year. He did not understand why she had brought it up, and in such a calm voice. "I had been so sure that it was all my fault—"

"It wasn't your fault Ginny," Harry said fiercely. "Riddle was using you," he reminded her.

"I know," she replied. "But I'd been stupid enough to believe all the things he said to me. I'd been stupid enough to trust him."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Ginny quickly cut him off.

"But then Dumbledore told me that—" she paused, and then looked at Harry. "Don't you remember it? What he said to me?"

Harry wasn't quite sure what she meant. Dumbledore had said many things that night.

"He said that I wouldn't get expelled because—"

"Because older and wiser wizards had been tricked by Riddle," said Harry, finally remembering Dumbledore's words.

"Exactly," Ginny said simply. "You were only fifteen then, Harry. Voldemort, Tom Riddle, whatever his name is—he was an expert in manipulating people. Anyone could have fallen into his trap. Just like anyone could have trusted that diary. After all these years, I realize that now. I was too young and too innocent to distrust him. And you—you didn't know that he could manipulate your connection to his advantage. The two of us—we were just being manipulated and we fell for it because we didn't know enough. I know it sounds pathetic, but it doesn't. Like Dumbledore had said, older and wiser wizards had been hoodwinked by Voldemort."

Harry stared open-mouthed at Ginny. He had never looked at things that way. But maybe, he thought hopefully, maybe she was right. Falling into Riddle's trap wasn't his fault, just like being manipulated by that diary wasn't—_definitely wasn't_—her fault. Still, it did not stop him from thinking—

"I wish I'd known enough," he said, feeling inexplicably ashamed.

"I wish I did too," agreed Ginny.

Suddenly, Harry didn't feel so guilty or so alone about being guilty anymore. Ginny _knew_ what it was like to want to change something she couldn't. And slowly, she was helping him accept that. But he still couldn't stop himself from doubting his blamelessness.

"What about Dobby?" he asked in a small voice. He was starting to feel ridiculous about what he was doing. Shit, he already _knew_ it wasn't his fault, but he was having a hard time accepting it. He had been so used to wallowing in his guilt that it seemed easier than accepting that he wasn't to blame for anything that had happened.

"Dobby was _free_ to do anything he wanted. You gave him that freedom. He _chose_ to help you. It was that evil Bellatrix woman who had stabbed him. And," Ginny paused for a moment, the firelight dancing in her eyes as they bored into his, "you wouldn't have been able to save Hermione if he hadn't come."

The truth of Ginny's statement hit Harry like a huge wave. He remembered Hermione's screams and Ron's tears. That night at Malfoy Manor could have easily been the worst moment of both his best friends' lives. Ginny was right. He would always, always choose Hermione—

But that made it even more painful. That he had to choose. That he had to pick one.

"It wasn't a choice, you know," Ginny said softly, interrupting his dark musings. "It wasn't like Bellatrix Lestrange held you at wand point and made you choose. If she had, I know you would have given your own life," she added in a humorless tone. "And that is exactly why Dobby chose to help you. You would have laid your life for someone other people thought was inferior to them."

Harry stared at Ginny, surprised and at the same time _not_ surprised that she had guessed his thoughts so easily. She gave him a small but warm smile that somehow dispelled some of the darkness that had settled over him.

"By fighting for you, Dobby was also fighting for the future of his race," she told him, and he suddenly knew it to be true.

He remembered standing with Ron, Hermione, Bill, Fleur, Luna, and Dean around the grave they had dug for Dobby. He remembered marking Dobby's tombstone: _"__Here lies Dobby, a free elf__,"_ it had said. Dobby was free. Dobby had _chosen_ to help him.

As Harry's memories brought him to that night at Shell Cottage, a questioned slowly formed in his mind. "You—you knew about Dobby?" he asked Ginny.

"I knew what Luna told me," Ginny replied simply.

Of course, Luna and Dean had been at Malfoy Manor too. Harry was silent for a moment. He looked down at his hands, and then—

"I was arguing with Ron and Hermione," he began quietly, not meeting Ginny's eyes, "about—" _the Elder Wand_, "about something. I, I was—_Merlin_, I was so stupid! Ron had told me about the Taboo on Voldemort's name, but I had forgotten—" _in my obsession with the Elder Wand_. "I said his name, and the Snatchers arrived seconds later. Before we knew what was going on, they had us tied up with other prisoners—Dean was there. Hermione made my face swell, so that I was unrecognizable, but the Snatchers still thought I was, er…_me_. They brought us to Malfoy Manor—"

Harry chanced a glance at Ginny. She was staring closely at him, seemingly intent on not missing a single word of what he was saying. He turned to the flames before continuing. He told her about everything that had taken place at Malfoy Manor: about Bellatrix Lestrange and the Malfoys deciding not to call Riddle until they were sure that he really was Harry Potter; about Bellatrix taking Hermione for 'questioning'; about Ron's pleas to keep him instead; about finding Luna and Ollivander in the dungeons; about Dobby coming to help them; about Wormtail's death; and finally, about rescuing Hermione from Bellatrix Lestrange but losing Dobby to a stab wound.

"Dobby died saving us," Harry said quietly. "If he hadn't come, I don't know what would have happened to Hermione," his heart tightened at the memory of his best friend's screams. "She was screaming so _hard_. I've—I've never seen Ron cry so helplessly. I—I can't imagine what he must've been feeling…."

Hermione's screams had gone through Harry like physical pain. But Ron—Ron must have felt worse, so much worse. To hear the tortured screams of someone he would have protected at the cost of his own life, of someone he loved quite like no one else.

Harry looked up at Ginny. Tears were starting to form at the corner of her eyes. He felt a sharp stinging in his own eyes. He couldn't help the question that was forming in his mind. He couldn't stop himself from asking. He had to know.

"Ginny," he whispered her name.

She stiffened, as though she already knew what his question would be. A lump formed in his throat at the thought of what her answer might be. He hesitated for a moment. Part of him did not want to know. It was too painful. But another part of him screamed for an answer, to know about what she had been through while he was gone hunting the Horcruxes.

"Gin, did they—" his voice started breaking, "did they use the Cr-cruciatus on you too?"

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, they were burning with that familiar, defiant blaze. She turned away from him and stared at the fire. Harry did not dare break the silence, hating himself for asking the question yet still wanting an answer.

"I wasn't the only one, Harry," she said, her even voice a complete opposite of the rage and sorrow that was building up inside him.

So it was true. They had used the Cruciatus on her. When Neville first told him about the Carrows, he had not wanted to believe that they had tortured her too.

"How many times?" he asked quietly, tightening his grip on her hand.

"_What_?"

"How many times did they Crucio you?" he asked hotly, his voice rising.

"Wha—" Ginny tried to pull her hand away, but he kept a strong grip on it. "I—"

"You don't know?" he asked, his voice strained. "You've lost count," he said darkly. "Was it that many—?"

"I haven't lost count, okay!" Ginny said loudly over his assumptions. "I did not _keep_ count!"

"Why?" he asked angrily.

"Why what?" she asked, trying yet again to pull her hand away.

"Why weren't you counting?" he pleaded.

"What?" she asked incredulously. Harry squeezed her hand even tighter. "Why would I—Harry you're hurting me!" she said angrily, finally succeeding in yanking her hand away from him.

Harry stared at her, and then at the hand she was massaging with her other one. He tore his eyes away from her and buried his head in his hands, clutching at the clump of hair that his fingers could reach. His eyes stung sharply, but his tears refused to fall. He could not breathe. The pain was trapped inside his chest but he couldn't seem to let it out. How stupid had he been to think that she was safe here in Hogwarts?

"I should've—" his voice was forced, his lung hurt with every word. "I should've—"

"You couldn't have brought me with you, Harry," said Ginny. "I still had the Trace on me. They would have tracked you down."

She laid her hand gently on his back and he finally remembered to breathe. He felt some of the knot in his chest loosen as he let out a dry, tearless sob.

"I was right where I needed to be," she continued. "The younger students needed us—me, Neville, and Luna. They needed someone to run to when it all became too much, they needed someone to defend them from the Carrows. The three of us—we knew you would come. We needed to keep the resistance going so that you would have the old D.A. when you finally came. I—I was fighting for you—"

"I didn't want you to fight for me!" he said in a pained voice, looking angrily up at her. He had not broken up with her so that the Carrows could torture her.

"Because I knew you were fighting for me too," she continued as though he had not said anything. "That's what we were all doing. We knew you were fighting for us—for our world." She met his gaze, her soulful brown eyes reaching out into his heart. "We were only returning the favor." Harry looked away from her and ran his hands agitatedly through his hair.

"You've been through much worse," she pointed out to him.

He would rather suffer a million Cruciatus Curses than have her be subjected to one.

"I was only here until March."

_Six months_! That was much too long. How many times had they used the Cruciatus on her?

Harry clumped his fists in his hair and pulled at it. He suddenly stood up and paced angrily in front of the fire. He didn't know what to do anymore. He had never remembered feeling so angry and so helpless at the same time. He loathed the Carrows for using the Cruciatus on her. He hated himself for not being there for her. He was frustrated that he would never be able to do anything about it. He wanted to torture the Carrows with his bare hands, but what he wanted more was to turn back time and prevent them from ever laying a finger on Ginny. But he couldn't do that. It was impossible. She had experienced the pain of torture.

"Stop that!" Ginny said irritatedly. "When are you going to realize that I can take care of myself?"

"I know you can take care of yourself," he retorted. Why doesn't she understand—?

"Then why the hell did you break up with me?" she demanded.

Harry stopped and in his tracks and faced Ginny. Her words felt like a slap in the face.

"You know why I did that," he said, trying to keep his voice even. "Riddle would've come after you if he knew about our relationship. We both know you were in much greater danger as my girlfriend than as someone I just happened to know. I thought this through, Ginny," he told her. "You think I wanted to break up with you?" he asked, hurt. "You think this wasn't painful to me? Because, _believe me_, it was. If I could have done it any differently I would have. I did what I did because _your_ safety is more important than _my_ happiness!"

Ginny stared defiantly at him for a full minute before turning away. "Listen," she began, looking back up at him with a softer expression on her face, "I _do_ know why you did that. I realized that if Voldemort had known about our relationship he might come not only after me, but also after my family. I realized that you might try to come and save me if Voldemort got to me—"

"I _would_ come and save you," said Harry emphatically.

Ginny looked up at him and nodded. "I've seen enough to know that the war is more important than our relationship. I do understand your reason for breaking us up. That isn't really what's bothering me," she admitted. "It's this," she said, waving her hand meaningfully at him. "You, acting like this just because the Carrows used the Cruciatus on me. I can handle it, Harry," she said quickly before he could protest. "I _had_ handled it. Many people had it worse than me—Luna got kidnapped, Neville and Michael got beaten up almost every day—"

"But it's different," he argued. "_You__'__re_ different."

"Why?" she demanded.

_Because I love you_, Harry thought, but his unaccustomed tongue had trouble forming the words in his mouth.

Ginny took his silence as a cue to continue. "When you came here, you told everyone what they needed to do, but you refused to let _me_ fight. You agreed with my mum. I've never been more insulted in my whole life."

Harry's heart broke at the pain in her voice. He didn't want her to fight because he only wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. He did not realize that he had hurt her by doing so. He sat beside her again, all anger forgotten.

"I'm sorry," he pleaded. "I didn't—I didn't know. I only wanted—" he paused, unable to come up with the right words that could say how much he needed her to be safe, to explain why he did not want her fighting.

"When—when I saw Fred die, I almost abandoned everything just to see if you were alright. _Everything_, Gin," he took her hand, willing for her to understand. "For one moment, all I could think about was if you were alright. I didn't care about what I needed to do anymore. And when—when that Killing Curse almost hit you, I stopped going after Riddle and went after Bellatrix instead."

Even as he said it, Harry realized how reckless he had been for doing that. He would have lost the advantage of surprise if Mrs. Weasley hadn't stepped in. But, reckless or not, going after Bellatrix would always be his choice.

"If your mum hadn't stepped in…."

"Are you saying I'm a distraction?" demanded Ginny, pulling her hand away. "A _liability_?"

"I'm saying that I couldn't go on fighting without knowing that you were safe. I _needed_ to know that _you_ at least would have a future after everything was over, that I was actually fighting for something that was worth all my troubles…."

"You _surrendered_ yourself to Voldemort, Harry," she told him accusingly. "Did you think I wanted to go on fighting after that? I thought you had _died_—"

"You don't understand," he told her, rubbing his face in frustration. "That was different."

"Why?" she demanded. "Because you're the _Chosen One_?" she asked derisively.

"_Yes_," Harry said fiercely.

* * *

**AN:** Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed. I'm not used to writing multi-chaptered fics that aren't lighthearted, so I was pretty uncertain about this one. Your reviews made me think there might just be hope in this story yet. Thanks everyone. I know this chapter is more 'angsty' than the first two. I hope you still like it. :)

And of course, thanks to my beta, Felineyx (from Perfect Imagination).


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I'm saying that I couldn't go on fighting without knowing that you were safe. I _needed_ to know that _you_ at least would have a future after everything was over, that I was actually fighting for something that was worth all my troubles…."

"You _surrendered_ yourself to Voldemort, Harry," she told him accusingly. "Did you think I wanted to go on fighting after that? I thought you had _died_—"

"You don't understand," he told her, rubbing his face in frustration. "That was different."

"Why?" she demanded. "Because you're the _Chosen One_?" she asked derisively.

"_Yes_," Harry said fiercely.

Ginny stared at Harry for several heart-stopping minutes, her expression unreadable.

"So it's true," she said after a while, her voice barely a whisper. "You really _are_ the Chosen One."

Maybe it was the quiet acceptance in her voice, or maybe it was the calm way she looked at him, but something about her compelled him to finally tell the truth he had always wanted her to know about.

Harry nodded slowly. "Do you remember the prophecy at the Department of Mysteries? The one about me and Riddle?" he asked, knowing that she did. "It said that someone was going to be born that would have the power to defeat Riddle."

"So that someone was you?"

"Yes," said Harry. He hesitated for a moment, and then, "And Neville."

He had never told anyone else about Neville being the other boy that the first part of the prophecy referred to. Not even Ron, Hermione, or Neville himself. But, Harry decided right then and there, he was not going to keep secrets from Ginny any longer. He never liked keeping so many things from her. He always felt suffocated every time he thought of all the things he had not told her. It wasn't healthy. He made a resolve to tell her everything she ever wanted to know.

"_Neville_?" asked Ginny, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in shock. "So…so Neville was a Chosen One too?"

"No," replied Harry. "The prophecy says that Riddle would mark that someone, me, as his equal." He touched the lightning scar on his forehead, "This is the mark. When he tried to kill me that night more than seventeen years ago, he marked me as his equal. So I'm the Chosen One. In a way, he chose me," he added ironically.

Ginny stared at his scar, speechless. Harry continued, "It also says that I will have powers that Riddle does not know about, and that one of us must kill the other…_either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives_," he quoted. "You see, Gin, _I_ had to be the one to defeat him. I would never have had a shot at a normal life while he was still alive."

"But," said Ginny, her brows furrowing in confusion, "but I don't understand why you surrendered yourself to him. If you're the only one who can defeat him, why did you surrender yourself to him?"

"Because," Harry began slowly, "when Riddle tried to kill me, his soul split, and he left…a part of him inside me, without intending it."

Ginny looked even more confused than she had been a few seconds ago. "You—you have a part of his soul inside you?" she asked, sounding like she was having a hard time believing it. Harry could not blame her.

"_Had_," Harry pointed out. "It's gone now," he added. It was important that Ginny understood that part. He wasn't sure if she was still listening to him though. She was obviously having a hard time wrapping what he had said around her head.

"I don't—I don't understand," she said after several seconds, sounding extremely distressed. "How could that happen? How could a soul just…_split_? And how did Riddle's soul got inside of you?"

Harry braced himself for what he was going to say next. He wasn't ready to recount everything that had happened during the long, dark months that he had been away from Ginny—it was too…_exhausting_ to relive all that in one night—but he could at least tell her the reason why he had to go on that months-long quest, why he left her the way he did. He took a deep breath, and then he told her about the Horcruxes and Riddle's quest for immortality.

"Riddle couldn't die with his Horcruxes still intact," Harry continued his explanation. "That was the mission Dumbledore gave to me. I had to destroy all seven of them before I could kill him."

Ginny was silent for several minutes, her face white as she processed everything he had just told her. "He made _seven_?" she asked faintly, as though she couldn't quite believe that someone would be so evil.

"His snake was a Horcrux," Harry said by way of a reply.

"Neville beheaded it," Ginny said in a tone of grim satisfaction. "What were the others?"

"Mostly, he used artifacts that were very significant in the magical world," explained Harry. "Slytherin's locket, a ring that had been in his family for generations, Hufflepuff's cup, Ravenclaw's diadem—"

"That's what you were looking for," Ginny said abruptly, "back at the Room of Requirement…." She trailed off for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, and then, "The diary—?"

She looked at Harry for confirmation. He nodded grimly.

"And—and _you_," said Ginny, sounding as though it had only just hit her. "Oh, _Merlin_," she said weakly.

Suddenly, before Harry could do or say anything else, Ginny pulled him towards her with a strength he didn't know she possessed and enveloped him in a very tight embrace that rivaled her mother's. Harry sank into her embrace, his heart ironically beating more freely the tighter she held him.

Ginny pulled away several minutes later. Her face was stained with tears and she was doing nothing to stop more of them from coming. She stared hungrily at Harry, as though afraid that he might disappear if she blinked. Her hands traveled all over him, her eyes following their path, from his face to his arms and up and down his body, like she couldn't quite believe that he was real. Suddenly, her eyes flashed back to his as her tears subsided and an expression of dawning realization settled on her face.

"At the grounds," she began, "when I was helping that girl…I felt someone pass by…that—that was you wasn't it?" she asked breathlessly. "In your Cloak? That was you…."

Harry nodded. Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but Harry beat her to it. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," he pleaded, knowing that it was what she was going to ask. "I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye…. I—I couldn't…. If I'd stopped and talked to you, I know that I wouldn't have had the strength to continue with what I was about to do. You were—you _are_ the one person I would've missed most and I knew that if you had stopped me, I wouldn't be able to fight _you_…. I'm sorry," he said again, looking imploringly at her.

Ginny held his gaze, seemingly deciding whether she should accept his explanation. Not for the first time, Harry wished he had a way of knowing what she was thinking. Finally, after what seemed like hours, her expression softened. She wrapped her arms around him.

"It's okay," she murmured in his ear. "What matters is that you're here now. I wish—I wish I could have been there for you, though," she said with a hint of regret in her voice. "I can only imagine what you must've been feeling. I wish you didn't have to do it alone."

"I—I wasn't alone," Harry reassured her in a soft voice.

Ginny sat back, her eyes searching his for an explanation. Harry told her about how his parents, Sirius, and Remus had been with him when he faced Riddle in the Forbidden Forest. He continued to tell her about everything that had happened to him from his walk through the forest—facing Riddle without drawing out his wand; meeting and talking with Dumbledore at King's Cross; coming back and having Narcissa Malfoy cover for him; pretending that he was dead while Ginny, Ron, and Hermione shouted his name; slipping under his Invisibility Cloak during the chaos that had broken out after Neville beheaded Nagini; trying to get to Riddle through the throng of fighters; watching Ginny almost getting hit by the Killing Curse and abandoning his pursuit of Riddle until Mrs. Weasley stepped in and killed Bellatrix Lestrange; casting the Shield Charm to protect Mrs. Weasley and taking off his cloak to face Riddle—up until the moment Tom Riddle finally met his end. Harry also explained the Deathly Hallows: how the Invisibility Cloak that had been passed on in his family from generation to generation had been one of them; how he had used the Resurrection Stone, which was also a Horcrux, to call his parents, Sirius, and Remus; and how he had acquired the Elder Wand which had refused to kill him, its true master.

When he finally finished talking, Harry looked apprehensively at Ginny, afraid that he might see fear, not of him but of the power he wielded through the Elder Wand, in her eyes. But when he gazed into those brown orbs, he saw such tenderness and affection, and maybe...hopefully..._love_, that he felt like a phoenix was singing to his heart and his heart alone.

"Did it hurt?" she asked in a quiet voice after several minutes.

Harry knew she meant getting hit by the Killing Curse. He gave a small smile, more out of the question's familiarity than anything else. He was deeply touched to know that she cared enough to worry if the Killing Curse had hurt him. He shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Where—where did it hit—?"

Harry pointed to the spot in his chest where the Killing Curse had hit him. Slowly, Ginny rested her hand on the spot over his heart. She stared at his chest and her hand on it.

"Your heart is beating," she said, looking up at him with something akin to wonder. "You're—_you__'__re alive_," she whispered, her voice breaking as her tears came back with a vengeance.

And then she was kissing him.

She kissed him all over, his forehead, his cheeks, his ears, his neck…. Shocked, Harry did not respond at first, but when she finally captured his lips in hers, he kissed her back, gasping at the long awaited sensation of her lips on his. Her answering moan spurred him to go deeper. He kissed her fiercely, drinking in the half-forgotten taste of her lips, and she kissed him back with equal fervor.

Kissing Ginny felt like coming home after years and years of restless wandering. She bit his lip fiercely making it bleed, validating that he was alive. It was then that Harry knew—_really knew_—that he had survived Riddle's Killing Curse and that it was all over. The tears he had been holding back finally fell, intermingling with Ginny's tears and the blood on his lip so that he could taste the sweetness of her lips, the salt in their tears, and the metallic flavor of his blood all at the same time. Relief surged through Harry like a huge wave.

_I__'__m alive_.

His heart was beating. He was doing the one thing he had longed to do. He was with the one person he had yearned for all those lonely months ago.

She removed one hand from the tangles of his hair and brought it down to the hem of his shirt, snaked up under it, and rested on his bare chest, as though checking that his heart was still beating. His own hands began to wander, travelling down her back, under her shirt, and up again. He reveled in the sensation of _her_—her hand gently threading through his hair, her other hand on his chest radiating warmth throughout his whole body, the softness of her skin, the pressure of her lips on his, the flowery fragrance of her hair….

After several minutes, or perhaps several warm summer nights, their kiss ended. Harry noticed for the first time that Ginny had somehow ended up straddling on his lap.

"You're alive, you're _here_," she murmured, more to herself than to Harry. She turned beseeching brown eyes on him. "Don't ever leave again okay?" She paused for a moment before continuing in as even a voice as she could manage. "It's just that…it—it really _hurt_," she told him, the tightness in her voice indicating just how much. "I don't—" she broke off, taking a deep breath, "I know why you did that, but that didn't stop it from hurting. I don't ever want to go through that again…."

She tried to hide it, but there was a vulnerability in her eyes that belied her fiery character. Harry's heart broke just then. It pained him to realize that, though it was the last thing he'd ever intended, he had been the one who caused her pain. He wished he could take it away, take it all for himself and shield her from any further pain that the world could cause. But that was not in his power, so he did the next best thing: he pulled her close and gently wrapped his arms around her.

"It took all of my willpower to stay away from you," Harry told her sincerely. "I had to keep reminding myself that you would be safer if we weren't together. Now, I—I don't think I would have the strength to let you go again. It—it's too _hard_," he choked at the last word. He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat, "I don't ever want to be away from you again. I don't want to give you up again."

Ginny pulled away slightly and looked him in the eye. "I don't want to give you up again either," she told him with her usual defiance. "You know I only let you go because I didn't want to give you another problem, right?" she asked after a moment's pause.

Harry stared at her. He didn't know that, not _really_. There had been times when he wished that she had fought against his decision to break them up, times when he questioned why she let him go that easily. After all, if he had been in her place, he would have fought tooth and nail to keep them together.

"You had the weight of the world on your shoulders," she continued. "I didn't want to add to that. I really would have fought for you otherwise." Her tone left no question to her sincerity. "I just want you to know that."

Harry nodded jerkily, finding that, _yes_, he did understand why she let him go, just as she understood why he had to go. Ginny gave him a small smile before resting her head on his shoulder. Harry held her closer. He wanted her to know how much he'd longed for her, how horrible his days had been without her.

"I missed you," he whispered in her ear. "When we were hunting the Horcruxes, I kept thinking of you. I knew I shouldn't. I tried not to. Riddle could see my thoughts through our connection, and if he knew…if he saw…"

Harry remembered it clearly. All those nights staring at her dot in the Marauder's Map, or thinking of her just before he fell asleep. He felt guilty that his thoughts always turned to her, but—

"But I couldn't stop myself," he told Ginny. "Th-there were times when I imagined you and me getting back together after—after everything. I always felt stupid afterwards," he said in a self-deprecating tone. "I never really thought I could make it out alive and thinking of you just made it _so much harder_."

Harry was grateful that Ginny's head was still on his shoulders. He didn't think he would be able to meet her eyes without the words getting jumbled in his throat.

"But I guess it also gave me something to look forward to," he continued. "I think—I think you gave me something to hope for."

There had been many times over the past months when he thought that he couldn't go on fighting, but when he thought of her, of what they could have if he defeated Riddle, he'd always find that he could.

"You were my last thought before the Killing Curse hit me," he said quietly.

Ginny slowly pushed herself off Harry's shoulder. She gazed at him with something akin to surprise, as though what he had told her was the last thing she had ever expected. Moments later, however, the surprise flitted from her eyes, replaced by warmth and tenderness. As Harry met her gaze, he realized why she had been his last thought: A life with her was the one thing he most regretted not being able to have when he thought he would die. He opened his mouth to tell her that, but his throat had suddenly closed up, as though his body knew that he would screw up his words.

Not taking her eyes off his, Ginny brought a hand to his face and gave his cheek a gentle caress. He closed his eyes and sucked in a contented breath. Harry lost himself in her touch, realizing that he did not have to tell her. She knew. She understood him like no other. No words were needed between them.

"I thought of you too," she confessed. Harry's eyes fluttered open as her hand left his face. "Whenever I felt like giving up, I would remind myself that you were out there fighting…. I knew you'd beat him," she said with certainty. "I knew you'd come through for us…."

Somehow, Harry knew that by 'us', she meant the world in general and at the same time just the two of them. He took her hand and covered it with his larger ones.

"I didn't—I didn't let myself think of what would happen when you didn't," she continued. "When Riddle said that you'd d-died…" she faltered for a moment, then looked down at their intertwined hands as Harry gave a reassuring squeeze, "I didn't want to believe it. I think part of me didn't believe it. Maybe—maybe that was how I stayed sane," she added ironically.

Ginny looked up, her eyes blazing when they met his. "I am _so_ glad you're alive," she said fervently. "I'm not quite sure who, or what, to thank. But I'm glad you're alive. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't lived." She took a deep breath, "I don't think I could have taken the blow, especially after…after everything."

Harry knew that she was thinking of Fred, that she was hurting. He knew she was afraid of losing him, especially after having just lost her brother. He hugged her tightly, promising himself that she never would.

"I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

"You better not," she mumbled threateningly into his ear. It sounded so like her, so…_Ginny_, that Harry couldn't help the chuckle that came out of his throat.

Ginny pulled away from his embrace and narrowed her eyes at him. "I mean it!" she said indignantly, but Harry could see her mouth turning up at the corners.

He smiled at her. "I meant what I said too," he said solemnly.

Ginny's whole body seemed to relax as she returned his smile. She pushed herself off his lap and settled on the couch beside him.

"Well," she said, her eyes flickering to Harry, "there's my silver lining."

Harry turned his head sideways to gaze at Ginny. She looked so undeniably beautiful right then, with the warm glow of the common room fire lighting up her face. He thought back to those dark months when he had been hunting for the Horcruxes. There was not a day that went by when he did not wish that he was sharing her smile instead of his best friends' grim countenances.

"Gin?" Harry asked quietly after a moment, his uncertainties finding their way into his voice. Ginny raised her eyebrows questioningly at him. "You'll stay with me too, won't you?"

Ginny gave him a fond smile. "Of course," she said, sounding like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like he didn't need to have asked, and in that moment Harry realized all that he could have lost. By surrendering himself to Riddle he had willingly given up the dreams he had for himself, he had given up the chance of ever seeing his friends again, and most of all, he had given up a future with Ginny.

Suddenly, to his utter horror, Harry started crying again. As Ginny held him in a tight embrace, Harry felt the last of his walls break down, the tears he would not shed in front of anyone else falling down to her shoulders. He cried for his parents; for his horrible childhood; for his years in Hogwarts that were marred by Riddle's presence; for the circumstances that had separated him from Ginny; for the long dreary months of hunting for Horcruxes with none of the comforts of Hogwarts, or the Burrow, or Ginny's presence; and finally, he cried over the fact that he had been left with no choice but to sacrifice his own life without even really experiencing life….

It was much, much later when Harry's tears finally stopped falling. He lifted his head off Ginny's shoulders and met her warm, teary-eyed gaze. She smiled tenderly at him, brushed his fringe off his forehead, and reached up to press a gentle kiss on his lightning bolt scar. Harry smiled back, looking reverently into her brown eyes, their amber streaks reminding him of the sun.

He felt…_at peace_. He felt the biggest knots in his heart loosen up. He felt a large chunk of the darkness that had settled on him being lifted off. He felt the last of the weight he had not realized he was still carrying being thrown off his shoulders. He felt lighter than he had been in ages.

For a brief moment, he saw his unencumbered future in Ginny's warm brown eyes; her eyes that served as guiding lights in the darkness that had surrounded him; _her_. She was his bright spot, his hope for the future. Maybe that was why he was so desperate to keep her safe. She represented the future for him. Her tender gaze, her vibrant hair, her kisses, her mischievous smile, her mesmerizing laugh, her gentle touch, her uplifting words, her carefree ways—she had given him a glimpse of what life would be like without Riddle. And now—his smile widened—that life was possible. It was his life now—he grinned from ear to ear—not someone else's.

He was free.

He gave a soft chuckle, which turned into a snigger, and then exploded into full-blown laughter. He laughed like he had so many months ago when he spent lunch hours by the lake with Ginny.

"Are you alright?" asked Ginny, sounding a little confused.

"Never—better," he replied laughingly, and moments later, Ginny joined in his laughter.

Their hurts were far from healed. They had suffered because of Tom Riddle, and they had lost people who were very dear to them. Harry and Ginny—the both of them—of all people, knew that the fight was far from over. There were still many things that needed to be done: buildings to be restored, organizations to be restructured, goodbyes to be said, and lives to be rebuilt. But for now—for now they were going to laugh their sorrows and worries away.

Sometime later, when the sky outside was at its darkest, Ginny stared down at Harry as he slept on the couch they had been sitting on. The slightest trace of a smile grazed his lips. His face was clear, bright. She marveled at what a small smile could do to his face. Or maybe it was the absence of the worried furrow in his brow that had seemed permanently etched on his face.

She remembered how Harry had laughed just a while ago, how his eyes had twinkled, and how his face had brightened. She had always found him to be very good-looking, but Ginny thought that he had never looked as handsome as he did at that moment.

She had never seen Harry so…_carefree_. It hurt to know that he had never had any reason to be. His life was so full of worries, of prophecies, of missions. He was only seventeen, yet he had seen evil far greater than those who were ages older than him. Her heart broke for him, for what he had been through. He knew no love as a child, he constantly faced danger as a teenager, he had lost so many of the people he had looked up to, and many other cruelties that he had to endure.

Yet, here he was, so good and so pure of heart. Only Harry could feel responsible for the lives that were lost in the war. Only Harry could give up his life for a world that had been so cruel to him.

_Her_ Harry.

She loved him. She loved the kid who had asked her mum for directions. She loved the boy who won Quidditch matches for Gryffindor. She loved the reluctant leader who taught the students the spells they needed to defend themselves, but more importantly, to stand up for what they believed in. She loved the boyfriend who broke up with her to keep her safe. She loved the person with the infinite capacity to love despite everything that he had been through.

She loved the shy boy he once had been, and she loved the man he had become. She could admit that now. She had been so afraid before: afraid to love him because he might not come back; afraid to love him because she was too young to fall in love; and mostly, afraid to love him because he might not love her back. Now, she realized it did not matter so much to her anymore. He could love someone else and she would be happy for him. All that mattered was that he was alive, and finally free of the evil and darkness that had followed him his whole life.

Whether he returned her feelings or not, she would still love him. Harry deserved all the love that the world could give, and he would always, _always_ have hers. And, she swore to herself, she would make sure that he would have a much better and happier life from that moment onwards.

Ginny smiled down at Harry's handsome face. Carefully, so as not to wake him up, she removed his glasses and placed them on a table by his feet.

Turning back to Harry, she whispered, "I love you."

Soon, she thought, she'd tell him when he wasn't sleeping. She leaned down and kissed the spot right above his heart. She snuggled close to him and rested her head on his chest, letting the steady, reassuring rhythm of his breathing lull her to sleep.

_End of Part 1_

* * *

**AN:** This first part is really just about Harry and Ginny getting together. I know there are still some unresolved issues, but I think they've overcome a major hurdle.


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